Harry Potter and the Angel's Agony
by The Purest Trinity
Summary: What if someone had taken notice of Severus' abuse as a child and done something about it? What if he devoted his life to helping abused children? What if one day the headmaster, his old savior, dropped off a young, green eyed boy?
1. Tears Are Not Enough

**Title:** Harry Potter and the Angel's Agony

**Chapter:** One, Tears Are Not Enough

**Warnings:** Child abuse, mention of child molestation, language, disturbing scenes, and strong alternative universe, original characters.

**Disclaimer:** I am not now, nor have I ever been J. K. Rowling.

**Authoress:** Stormy Llewellyn

**Authoress' Rambles:** A new story, everyone! I know, I know, you're probably waiting on updates for my other stories and you shall get them my dears. However, the idea for this fic hit me SO violently that I had to write it. I love Severus and Harry stories and I -gasp- am going to try to make this one a bit different. Also, I try to write about the issues discussed as well as I can. Some of them I have experienced first hand and others come solely from research which can never duplicate the emotions. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. Review!

**XxXxXxX**

Severus Snape was nothing if not efficient. He hated novels and poetry and preferred the conciseness of potions' texts. When shopping he made an exact list of what he planned to buy, and purchased nothing except the items on the list. He was the same way with packing. However, tonight he was hurrying a bit to get his trunk packed because he wanted to spend time with his mother before he left for Hogwarts in the morning.

Though his plans were quickly changed when he heard the squeal of tires taking a corner too fast and a crashing noise outside the house. Walking briskly to the window, he kneeled on his bed a pushed aside the ratty, brown curtain. An old, familiar car had gone crashing into their fence. A man kicked open the door and stumbled over one of the broken posts, and it would have been vaguely amusing if Severus' heart wasn't pounding against his rib cage. He ran to the door and slammed it shut, quickly putting his desk chair underneath the doorhandle. Nervously, he sat down on the floor, out of sight from the door. For a few moments he sat silently, breathing raggedly and he listened for footsteps on the stairs. He heard the radio click off and his mother's light footsteps travel into the foyer (which was really a four-by-four bit of tiled floor). Suddenly there was a loud bang from downstairs as the door opened and Severus heard his mother cry out.

"Eileen! Where's the boy? I know he's here, and I know you're hiding the little monstrosity."

There were heavy footsteps coming towards the stairs, and Severus felt a shudder go through his body as he tried to make himself smaller. "Wait, wait! Tobias! Please! You're drunk, whatever you have to say, why don't you say it tomorrow? It's the day before he leaves, please just leave him alone."

"Are you trying to tell me what to do, woman?"

"No, but–."

There was the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh, followed by a crashing noise. Severus winced as he unwillingly imagined his mother's fragile body being thrown to the ground. His father snapped angrily, "You think I won't hurt you, Eileen? Think you're special? You and your little freak?"

Shakily, Severus got to his feet and moved to the door. He couldn't just sit there and allow him to hurt his mother. She was the only one who had ever defended him. No one at Hogwarts stuck up to him, none of his so called friends, and certainly none of the rest of his family. Eileen was the only person in the world who seemed to care for this wretched little boy. Slowly, he made his way downstairs to see his father lording over his mother who was blocking the steps with her body. Hearing the creaking noise she turned away, her blue eyes looking worried and scared.

"Severus! Go back upstairs and lock your door!"

He couldn't, though. That was what he had done for the last fourteen years of his life and it hurt the way he viewed himself. Never did the taunts of "coward" ring louder in his ears than when he was hiding on the dirty floor of his bedroom. Severus walked down the rest of the steps and helped his mother to her feet. Then he turned and glared at his father, shielding his mum from any further blows.

"What? You little freak, gonna cast a spell on me? Turn me into a toad or something unnatural like that?"

"If you ever touch her again, you will regret it. And not by something as trifle as a transfiguration spell." He spoke in the same cold, silky tone that he used on Gryffindors and some Slytherins. To be honest, he knew that he would regret it, but somehow he didn't care.

Tobias' eyes widened with shock which was quickly overcame with anger, "Why, you little bastard! You think you're going to hurt me? Think you're going to hurt me? I'll show you!"

Eileen once again moved to protect her son, however, Tobias pushed her aside, sending her sprawling on the floor. He grabbed Severus by his long, slightly greasy hair and pulled him up that stairs. Although his instincts told him to run away as fast as humanly possible, his father had a death grip on his hair and whenever he tried to get away, tears sprung to his eyes from the pain. Downstairs, Eileen got to her feet and ran after them, however, they were already at the bathroom door. Tobias slammed it in her face and hit the button that locked the door, Eileen pounded on the door, shouting at her husband, her voice obviously tearful.

Snape cowered on the floor until his father grabbed him by his neck and shoved him into the wall opposite the bathtub. "Turn around, pants and underwear off, and don't make a sound." Tobias snarled at his son. Shakily, the boy complied with the order, knowing that disobedience would only make his father angrier. However, it was difficult to make yourself vulnerable to punishment. The bathroom was small, however, and there was nowhere for him to go. Severus prayed (though he didn't call it so, for neither of his parents had ever exposed him to religion) that his father would beat him barehanded. He actually flinched when he heard his father undo his belt. He hated the belt, and a shiver of fear ran through him.

The first time the belt hit him, he bit his tongue to keep himself from screaming. Then his father brought the belt down again; on the same spot. This time a scream did leave his throat, causing his father to smack the back of his head with his fist. Still, the boy refused to cry; he was not weak. He was not his mother. The beating continued until the corner of Snape's eyesight blurred and a spasm ran through his hand muscles until he lost his grip on the sink and fell, his forehead bouncing off the sink. Tobias gave him a kick to the stomach, just to be sure his spirit had been completely broken before leaving the room, slamming the bathroom door shut.

Only when his father's footsteps had descended down the steps did he curl up in a small ball and let a sob escape. His body shook violently as he cried silently. Severus cried until his stomach contents threatened to come up at which point he lurched for the toilet. All his energy was drained from him, he felt as though he could sleep for a thousand years. Slowly, he lowered himself to his stomach on the floor and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

**XxXxXxX**

Cool air hit him, soothing his wounds and he slowly opened his eyes to find himself still on the floor of the bathroom. His mouth was sour with his own puke and his backside was burning painfully. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the pale light of dawn outside the bathroom window. Painfully, he got to his feet and walked over to the dirty bathtub. He sat a towel on the filthy bottom to keep his feet from touching it and turned on the water to a comfortable coolness, knowing the wounds couldn't stand much heat. Careful not to touch the side of the tub, he stepped under the stream and gently began to wipe away the clotted blood. The washcloth was destroyed, stained with blood from his wounds. Severus looked around the bathtub for shampoo and found none. With a sigh he reached for the soap but found that the bar was filthy. Without soap, he did the best he could to get himself clean.

Severus stepped into the hallway and heard his father's heavy snores coming from down the hall. As quietly as possible, he padded down the hallway into his room. There he found that his trunk was gone, as were all his school supplies. His chest constricted painfully; what if his dad had gotten rid of them as he so often threatened? Suddenly, he stopped himself. Why was he being so emotional? Bad things happened to him, it was a fact, and this was the way things had been as long as he could remember. First of all, he needed to get dressed and then he could deal with whatever had happened.

In his dresser he found all his Muggle clothes. His mother had done her best with her little bit of money to keep him well clothed. Eileen encouraged him to wear more colorful clothes to lift his mood. However, as we have already established, Severus was a practical boy and stuck with black clothing. It made his escape notice and also his blood did not show up on it if his wounds got opened again from too much movement. He pulled on a pair of old white boxers, a simple long-sleeved black shirt and a pair of black jeans; all the clothes were oversized and chosen for that reason as to not hurt his wounds.

Severus made his way down the stairs, flinching each time they creaked. The downstairs was in a disarray; a chair and lamp had been broken, there was a hole in the wall, and the knickknacks on the counters and shelves had been thrown to the floor. Walking over the mess, he made his way to the front door to get some fresh air before the day's battles began. He was surprised to find his mother already seated on the porch, and to his relief she was sitting on his trunk. Eileen's black hair was pulled into a bun and she was smoking a cigarette, a filthy Muggle habit in the opinion of her son.

"Thought you quit," Severus said casually, making his way across the porch and kneeling on the porch next to her and the trunk.

Eileen was startled and was halfway through standing before she realized that it was only her son who had spoken. She took a last drag before putting the cigarette out on the old porch railing, "I did. Back before things were...so stressful."

He knew what she meant, she didn't have to say it but he did know. For some reason Severus enraged Tobias far more than his quiet mother ever could. Eileen had given up magic long ago, since it didn't seem to be helping her life very much as it was. She was no longer a threat to her husband so he mostly left her alone, aiming his anger instead at his son. Ever since he had come home at the end of his third year, things had gotten much worse.

"Do you need to see a doctor?" She asked, her way of asking if he was all right.

"No, I think I'm okay," he responded simply, gazing down the road with pensive eyes.

"Good, then let's get going."

Surprised he asked, "Already? It's early still!"

"I want to get breakfast first, so we can talk."

So they set off down the road on foot. It was a half an hour walk from their house to London, and another twenty minute walk to get to King Cross Station. His wounds were aching and the cold September air was not helping. Eileen carried the trunk, knowing that her son was still in pain and the bruises she had received were minor. They stopped for breakfast at a small Muggle diner named Geary's Grill though in Severus' opinion it just as easily could have been called Geary's Grease Trap. He said nothing though as they entered and moved over to a booth. Gently, he tried to lower himself into his seat and found that it was agonizing even on the sparsely cushioned seat. He shifted several times but finally resigned himself; at least his back didn't have to touch the seat at all and that's where the worse of his injuries was.

A disgruntled looking woman waited on them as they gave their meager orders. A coffee for Eileen and an order of grits for Severus. Eileen stared into her coffee cup for a long time, obviously lost in thought. Severus was about to ask her what was wrong when he saw the tears rolling down her face. He stood up and walked to the other side of the table, sitting down next to her.

"Mum? Are you okay?"

She let out a slightly hysterical cross between a snort and a giggle and muttered, "And he asks if _I'm_ all right."

It was making him nervous, he wasn't used to seeing strong shows of emotion from his mother. She was shredding a napkin and crying in earnest. Finally she turned to him and said, "I can't even protect you Severus, what use am I?"

"You tried..."

Eileen let out a bark of laughter, "Trying doesn't matter if you fail, my little snake." It was a familiar saying of the Slytherin house. "I suppose that's the way it is with life, too."

Severus didn't know what to say so he simply took a bit of bite of his biscuit. He wasn't very good at this kind of thing, and never had been. Suddenly she took him in a hug; it was gentle and mindful of his injuries, but there was a lot of emotion behind it. At first he stiffened, but then he slowly allowed himself to relax and soon found himself leaning into it.

"Just know, Severus, that I love you. And that I tried, though I'm aware it doesn't mean much." He was about to ask her what she meant when she suddenly released him and said, "We need to get to the station, I assume you want to get a compartment to yourself. And honey? Don't blame yourself for anything that happens, and I apologize for anything that happens."

Severus opened his mouth to question her once again when she suddenly nudged him out of the booth and walked briskly across the street to the train station. He followed her rather like a lost puppy. They briefly said their goodbyes, Eileen placing a fierce kiss on his forehead before she allowed him to climb onto the train. She didn't stay to wave him off as other mothers did, but then again she never did. Eileen had to get the house cleaned up before his father woke up.

Walking down the aisles, he chose a small compartment at the very end of the train. He laid down on his stomach across the bench and planned on sleeping out the ride. As he drifted off the compartment suddenly slid open and an old witch popped her head in and asked, "Anything from the trolley, dear?"

Severus gave her the glare he usually reserved for Sirius Black and asked sharply, "Do I look like I want sweets?"

She looked slightly taken aback and closed the door and moved down the hall to find more likely customers. The train soon began to move and Severus found himself again drifting into sleep until he heard boisterous voices floating down the aisle and into the compartment. He'd know those voices anywhere. Quickly, he slid off the seat and under it, hating himself for hiding from them. The door slid open and there was a stampede of footfalls as all four of them entered.

"All right, Remus?"

"Just tired, Sirius, it's only two days after the full moon after all."

Severus frowned and scooted back further when two people sat in the seats above him. Suddenly, he understood and let out a gasp of surprise.

"What was that?" Potter asked.

"Do you suppose the train is haunted?" Pettigrew added.

"Don't be stupid, Wormtail, why would a ghost haunt the train? Let's see; haunt a train that only runs once a year or a magical, constantly shifting castle? Tough decision. Besides, no one has ever died on the train," Black looked under the seat and grabbed Severus' arm gruffly, "yet, anyway."

"Snape!" Potter looked furious, his eyes slanting behind black framed glasses, "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," He said smoothly, straightening himself up.

Black grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him into the wall and window behind him. Tears sprung to Severus' eyes as his wounds were hit and as the bar that separated the window and wall dug into his back.

"Certainly live up to your name, _Snivellous._" Black pulled him forward to slam him back again.

Snape gasped and struggled to pull away, "No, Black, please don't."

Various amounts of shock appeared on the faces of the occupants of the compartment. Severus Snape? _Begging?_ Black grabbed his arm and twisted him around, lifting up his shirt. Severus struggled, but it was too late. There was a collective gasp and Remus Lupin muttered a word rather unbefitting to his prefect badge. He knew they all knew what the wounds were from, it didn't take a genius to figure it out.

The look of shock changed to a smirk on Sirius' face and he laughed, "Look, even his parents don't like him."

Potter glared at Black, "Shut up Sirius," he walked over to the other teen and said quietly, but with authority, "If you tell _anyone_ about Remus'...condition, I swear the whole school will know by the next day about _your_ secret. Do you understand me?"

Severus nodded weakly, and Potter backed off, leading his friends out of the compartment. Tears were running down Snape's face, though he tried to convince himself they weren't. Settling back on the bench, he drifted off to sleep, hoping that none of this was an omen of how the year would go.


	2. Never Again

**Story:** Harry Potter and the Angel's Agony

**Chapter:** Two, Never Again

**Authoress:** Stormy Llewellyn

**Authoress' Note:** Sorry this took so long to get out. First of all, it was a hard chapter to write and second of all my cable (including internet) got shut off. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and more than that, I hope you will review. I noticed that several of you added me to your alert list (which I appreciate) but did not review. I have to tell you, this is one of my pet peeves and I would appreciate it if you took a few minutes to write a review.

**XxXxXxX**

As it turns out, school went as smoothly as it ever did for young Severus. Professor ignored his existence and continued to heap praise upon that damn, redheaded Mudblood; whose work was, in Severus' opinion, little more than mediocre. McGonagall, unfortunately, did not ignore him; she would press her lips into a thin line and scold him, none to gently for whatever he had done. For someone as unobtrusive as himself, apparently he misbehaved quite a bit. The rest of the teachers seemed to swing between these two attitudes of dislike and indifference.

The Marauders...well, they mostly ignored him, which was an improvement, however, Severus found himself walking on eggshells around the four boys. Whenever he said or did something they didn't like, they (meaning Sirius, and sometimes James) would hint at what they knew. Remus was worse. He _pitied_ him. The word left a sour taste in his mouth, as did the idea of that man-beast feeling sorry for him. A perfect example of this was the third week of school when they were practicing interspecies transformation.

They were trying to change frogs into flies and so far all Severus had managed to do was give his frog huge, bug eyes. Remus came up behind him, causing him to jump and nearly stumble out of his seat.

"Sorry," Remus said, running a hand sheepishly through his shaggy, sandy-brown hair. He seemed to be waiting for something, but all he received was a well-practiced raise of Severus' eyebrow. Finally, he broke in, "You know, it's not that you're not powerful or smart enough to do transfiguration. I think it's just that you're too tense to do it. Transfiguration requires fluidity, and emotional transference, unlike potions."

Severus was actually surprised. That made a great deal of sense; he was tense. For some reason, the past few weeks, he had kept seeing his father; in every dark corner, every moving shadow, every creak of the old castle, shifting it's weight. Which was ridiculous, to think that his Muggle father was in Hogwarts Castle, however, he was so used to living in fear of his father and that was a hard habit to break. Glancing over at the Marauders, he saw that _all_ of them (even Peter) had managed to turn it into a fly. James and Sirius had enlarged their flies and had even cast aggression charms on them, causing the two bugs fight each other.

He sneered, "Oh, do you really think so, Lupin? Maybe I could relax if there wasn't a beast in this classroom who, on the night of the full moon, would tear my throat out as soon as look at me."

From the expression on Remus' face, Severus might as well had slapped him. Flushing, the werewolf hissed, "Gee, why did your father beat you again? Could it be your mouth?"

Severus reeled from the implication that he had deserved what had happened to him. He felt tired all of a sudden, and he stared blankly down at the tabletop. He might have hit Lupin if the boy hadn't reacted the way he did to what came out of his mouth.

"Severus! I'm _so_ sorry!" He lowered his voice and explained shyly, "It's really close to the full moon. I lose control of myself sometimes."

He wasn't hearing it though. Severus poured all his anger into his wand and pointed it at the frog, changing it into a fly. A very poor fly, yes, but a fly nevertheless. "See? I don't need your help." With that he stood up and stormed out of the room, ignoring the calls of Mcgonagall. As soon as he was clear of the door, he began to run, and continued to run until he reached the astronomy tower, which was empty at this early hour. He leaned breathlessly against the wall, chest heaving and tears streaming down his face. Quickly, he wiped them away with a disgusted snort.

"Sev?"

His lips twitched at that hated nickname, and he slowly raised his eyes to see who dared disturb him. When he saw her, he quickly averted his eyes and pressed them closed, ridding himself of the last of his tears, "Hello, Narcissa."

"Hey, are you all right? You look like you've been crying."

Severus lifted a now dry face to Narcissa and sneered, "Don't be ridiulous, Black, I simply wanted to get away from the arrogant prats who seem to overrun this school."

She leaned against the wall and slumped down next to him. Severus observed her out of the corner of his eye, making sure to keep a look of disinterest on his face. The youngest Black girl hadn't been pretty back then, most found her rather dull compared to her two sisters. Narcissa was neither beautiful, as Bellatrix was, nor was she as smart as her sister Andromeda. However, Severus had always seen something in her, something underlying in her. She was stronger than the other members of her family, clever to a certain extent, brilliant in potions, witty, and extremely compassionate. A faint smile touch his lips as he looked at her.

In her third year, Narcissa was all knees and elbows. She was taller than most of the girls in her class, had long blonde hair, a pointy nose, and slightly dull grey eyes. Currently, she was in her school uniform; a knee-length green skirt, a button-up white shirt, white tights, and a black pair of shoes. She had foregone the black cloak that went over it since it was still warm outside in the early fall. Severus had never known much about beauty and appearence, but he'd always found the youngest Black very attractive.

"What are you doing up here?"

She flipped her hair haughtily, causing Severus to shake his head ruefully. Narcissa may not be excessively beautiful or excessively intelligent, but she was a Black through and through, "I have study hour; I didn't feel like going."

"Ooh, a rebel," Snape snorted sarcastically.

The youngest Black glared at Snape (which was so adorable, that he almost laughed out loud) and snapped, "Well, why should I do something that bores me so?

Severus simply stared at her before commenting, "Wait until you start studying for the N.E.W.T.'s or even the O.W.L's."

Shrugging her slender shoulders, Narcissa stood and walked over to the window where she spen around to face him, leaning against the open window. "You know, since my first astronomy class I've always dreamt I'd meet my true love up here. I know it sounds silly, but it always seemed so romantic!"

It did sound silly, not to mention impractical. Girl in general seemed impractical to Severus. However, the expression on his face said she wanted him to disagree. For some reason, he felt compelled to oblige, "Er, no, I suppose it isn't. I mean, girls seem to have those sort of fantasies."

"Girls! Why, Severus Snape!" She gave that adorable glare again with her hands on her hips, head tilted to the side, and her ridiculously long blonde hair flowing over her right shoulder. Then she relaxed and got a mischevous look on her eyes, "No, I suppose you're right, girls do have a predisposition towards those sort of fantasies. And I suppose all boys have fantasies of meeting their true love at a Quidditch game in the form of a screaming fan girl."

He blanched at the implication that he would ever hope for that, and she giggled at the look on his face. Usually he hated that feminine, bubbly noise that females seemed to make when they were amused by a boy. Coming from the blonde, however, it sounded beautiful, and Severus had precious few beautiful things in his life. He found himself smiling. Suddenly, she stopped giggling and stared at him in surprise.

"You should do that more often," she said softly, stepping forward and running a hand down the side of his face, "It makes your features look so much softer."

Narcissa was so close now that he could feel her cool breath against his neck. She tipped her face upwards and her grey eyes locked with his black ones. He couldn't help what happened next; slowly, deftly his head tilted down and his lips met hers. Gently, she leaned in, her body conforming to his, a perfect fit. Severus placed a hand on the small of her back. It was a fairly chaste kiss, dry and sweet, but somehow intimate. Lucius' face flashed into Severus' head. The older boy cleaning his wounds, allowing him to sleep in the guest room of Malfoy Manor, letting Severus cry and be upset without making him feel weak, sitting there and assuring Severus that his father and all the Muggles like him would pay. This train of thought continued until Severus thought it would drive him mad.

He grabbed Narcissa gently by the shoulders and pushed her away. She placed her hands on his wrists, stroking small circles with her thumb on the delicate flesh, and smiling at him with her pouting lips.

"Narcissa," he said seriously, stilling her hands and that damnable thumb circling his flesh and breaking down his will, "last time I checked, you were betrothed. To Lucius."

She looked angry and pulled her hands out of his grasp, "I didn't make that choice, Severus! I've made no promises that I am breaking!"

"Your parents," he stated, "made the promises on your behalf."

"He's seven years older than me! He's twenty to my thirteen!"

"When you're older, the difference won't seem so large."

She stamped her foot, "You wanted to kiss me! I felt it! You even initiated the kiss, you like me, don't you?"

"I like you plenty, and I'm certain you will come to like, or even love Lucius."

"It's not just that Severus! He–Merlin, I hate him! He doesn't make me think like you do! Lucius treats me like a lady, while you treat me like a person. He promises me a life of ease while you promise to challenge me everyday!"

"Narcissa, we're friends. _Good_ friends. But you are to be Lucius' wife. I can't do this."

A cold voice came from the door, "Am I...interrupting something?"

Severus and Narcissa quickly moved away from each other, looking very much like a cat caught with canary feathers in their mouths. Bellatrix Black stood in the doorway, her hooded eyes narrow. She walked quickly over to her little sister and grabbed her by her long blonde hair, and dragged her to the door. She turned before leaving, "Severus, the headmaster wants to see you. Slughorn asked me to find you and tell you to meet them down in the office. The password is," she sneered here, "Mars Bars."

_Both the headmaster and my head of house?_ Severus wondered, _What have I gotten myself into now?_ Narcissa must have seen the look on his face, because she shouted over her sister's shoulder, "I'll wait for you in the common room."

"I don't think so," said Bellatrix smoothly, "I think from now on the two of you will need a chaperone. I don't like what I heard, and I will _not_ have you disgracing this family Narcissa. Good day, Mr. Snape."

Severus was then left alone in the tower as the middle Black tugged her protesting sister down the corridor. Reeling, he followed them out and made his way to the headmaster's office. Reluctantly, he said the password and entered the small room and mounted the small, moving spiral staircase. Nervously, he straightened his robes before knocking on the door.

"Come in, Severus."

He entered and was greeted by three adults; Mcgonagall, Slughorn, and Dumbledore. Quickly, he glanced to each face to see if any of them were giving away hints of what was going on. They all looked grim. Dumbledore didn't even offer him a lemon drop, which both worried and stung him, even though he never accepted them.

"We have some unfortunate news, and there is no easy way to break this, so I shall just come out and say it. Your mother, Eileen Prince-Snape, passed away last night."

There was silence in the room. It was deafening, and Severus felt the entire world fall out from beneath him. When he spoke, it was tentative, " Did...did she do it herself?"

Dumbledore looked surprised, but inclined his head slightly in the affirmative. "Severus, I must ask you...have you had any thoughts of hurting yourself?"

"I'm not weak," Severus said angrily, icily, meeting the headmaster's gaze.

"No one said you were, my boy."

Severus glared at him and repeated in the same tone, "I'm not your boy."

There was a stunned silence at his rudeness until McGonagall cleared her throat, "Severus, we thought that you might like to return home for the next few weeks."

"Why? I'll miss half this term! Motherless children _do_ still get to attend Hogwarts, do they not?"

"Your schoolwork will be sent to you. Severus, your father has requested your presence at home, I can not deny that request. Unless, of course, you have something to tell me?" Dumbledore looked seriously at him over the rims of his moon-shaped spectacles. For a moment, Severus was sure that he knew. His throat felt thick, this was his chance to never have to go back there again. However, when he glanced up, he found the other two occupants of the room were giving him rather unfriendly looks. Softly, he said, "No, sir, I think I'll go pack my trunk."

Dumbledore sighed, looking as if he was feeling all his years, "Very well, Severus, please go pack and meet me back here."

Quickly, he threw all his things in his trunk, not wanting to keep Dumbledore waiting. He was feeling slightly hysterical at being sent home, especially without his mother there. Just as he was about to pack his copy of Most Potente Potions, he stopped himself and hid it under his bed. It was a reassurance that he _would_ return to Hogwarts in a few weeks. It would probably be the only thing that kept him sane the next few weeks.

Quickly, he made his way down to the office and repeated the password. When he arrived back in the office, only Dumbledore was there. "All right, I assume you've used floo travel before?" Severus nodded, "Good, you go first and I will follow."

"What? You're coming with me?"

"Yes...is that a problem? I often go to offer my consolidations to the family who has suffered as loss."

"But...you're busy!"

"This is part of my job, Severus." He sighed and reluctantly picked up a bit a floo powder and threw it into the fire. Stepping into the green flame, he shouted, "Spinner's End!"

When he arrived, he winced at the state his house was in. Things were broken and the house was messy and smelt faintly of alcohol. Dumbledore didn't say a word when he arrived, though Severus could see clearly his thoughts by the expression on his face. It made him angry, that Dumbledore was judging his house and his life, perhaps even thinking his mother had been a bad housekeeper. Coldly, he said, "I don't think he's here right now, it's okay, I'll wait."

"And I think I'll wait with you," Dumbledore moved to sit down on the couch.

"No!" the headmaster gave him a surprised look, "I mean, I'd rather you didn't."

Dumbledore stared long and hard at the young boy before nodding. He knelt before Severus, taking his chin in his wizened old hand, "Just remember, I'm only an owl away if you need me."

Keeping his face impassive, the boy nodded and watched the professor disappear again into the green flames.

**XxXxXxX**

When Severus didn't show up for the next day for classes, Remus Lupin was concerned. The dark-haired boy never missed a class. Remus vaguely remembered in their first year when Severus had gotten the dragon pox and had snuck out of the infirmary to attend their transfiguration class, only to be chased out by an enraged Mcgonagall. However, no one else seemed to notice and Sirius distracted him quickly from his thoughts.

It had no been four weeks since he had last seen the boy and he was on pins and needles. Even Sirius and James were beginning to notice his absence as their boredom grew to astronomical levels. Desperate, Remus sought out Lily Evans, she and Severus were on rather friendly terms and he figured she may know where he had gone.

"Remus," she greeted cheerfully when he approached her in the hallway, "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Lily. I was wondering if you knew where Snape was? I mean, he hasn't been in classes lately..."

She pressed her lips together, looking frighteningly like Mcgonagall, "That depends, if I tell you, are you going to run back and tell those two goons so they may throw it in Severus' face when he returns?"

"No!" Remus exclaimed, shocked that she would think that, "I'm just...worried."

There was a long moment of silence before the pretty redhead smiled at him and explained, "There's nothing to worry about. He isn't sick or anything like that, his mother passed away and he went home for a few weeks."

"He's at home? All alone? When is he supposed to be back?" Remus felt a cold sweat break out under his white dress shirt.

Lily frowned, looking thoughtful, "Actually, now that you mention it, he was supposed to be back last week."

For a moment, Remus could just stare and then he buried his face in his hands and slumped down against the wall. "Oh, shit."

"Remus!" Whether that was said out of concern or as a warning about his language, he could not tell, "What's wrong with you?"

"It's bad, Lils, real bad. When we were on the train, Snape was there and he was hurt real bad, his back looked like mince meat, all covered in gashes and welts. It looked as if he was beaten with a belt."

"Oh, Merlin!" whispered Lily, running a nervous hand through her hair, "Do you think...that his dad had anything to do with it?"

"He didn't tell me or anything, but Sirius guessed at it and you should have seen the look on his face."

Lily grabbed his arm, pulled him to his feet and dragged him down the corridor. "Lily! Wait! Stop!" He dug his heels into the stone tile, forcing her to stop, if only for a minute. "Where are we going?"

"The headmaster's office, of course! We have to tell him!" Remus didn't respond, but allowed himself to be dragged to the gargoyle that guarded the office. Lily frowned, looking at him questioningly. Remus shrugged, it'd been a long time since he'd been sent to Dumbledore's office, he seriously doubted the password was the same. Looking helpless, began naming Muggle candies, "Snickers? Whatchamacallits? Skittles? M&Ms? Lemon drops? Oh just open you stupid thing, or I'll hex you!"

To both their surprise, the gargoyle sprung to life and leapt to the side. "It worked?" She looked supremely pleased with herself, until the headmaster stepped out of the doorway. He looked amused, "Miss. Evans, never make a threat you do not plan on following through with. Can I help the two of you?"

"Er, yes, can we go to your office and talk about this in private please?"

Dumbledore looked questioning but nodded his head in the affirmative. Once settled and they both had declined a lemon drop, they were looking nervously at each other, trying to decide who would break it to Dumbledore. Finally, Lily blurted out, "We're worried about Severus."

He looked down at his hands and then up at his two students, "As am I...I've received no owls from him...and he is past his due date for arriving back at Hogwarts. The floo service, however, was only temporary and my owls have not been responded to. I have, unfortunately, no reason to go get Severus."

"Well..." Remus looked uncertainly at Lily who nodded, "we think we do." At the headmaster's questioning gaze, he continued, "On the Hogwarts's Express we, that is James, Sirius, Peter, and I saw Snape, and he sort of overheard something that made him suspicious about...things. So Sirius shoved him and he let out this noise like he was hurt, but Sirius hadn't even pushed him that hard. And we found that his back was covered in welts and bruises and gauges. We are pretty sure his father did it."

All of this came out in a rush. The headmaster, however, seemed to take it all in stride and caught every word, "And why, my dear boy, didn't you come to me sooner?" Remus pressed his lips together and looked at the fascinating carpet under his feet, "I see. Perhaps, you boys thought you could get something for the knowledge you possessed?" His face was red now with shame and the headmaster's disappointment was making him cringe internally. "I shall go check on Severus. I only hope we are in time. As for the two of you, please return to your common rooms and speak of this to no one."

Lily was on her feet immediately, "Headmaster! Don't you think if something did happen then people should be there for him?"

"Miss Evans, I ask that you don't argue with me about this," his look was so stern that for once the redhead fell quiet and did as she was asked.

Dumbledore walked calmly from the school as to not upset or worry the children. However, when he exited the gate, he ran the rest of the way to the apparition spot with a surprisingly steady gate for a man of his years. Quickly, he pictured the room he had seen on his previous visit, disregarding usual niceties. The moment he got his bearings, it was obvious something was wrong. There was a tall, obviously drunk man reining over a young boy who was curled in a protective ball sobbing over and over again that he was sorry. Without thinking, Dumbledore sent off a stupefying spell which sent the man to the ground. Quickly, he walked over to the boy and pulled him to himself. Severus struggled against him, whimpering pathetically. Eventually, however, he gave up and leaned against Dumbledore.

The older man stroked the boy's black hair and whispered reassurances. For a moment Severus didn't seem to recognize him, until he lifted his tear stained face and met Dumbledore's light blue eyes. "It's my fault, Dumbledore, I killed her. She needed me, and I abandoned her!" The uncontrollable sobbing began again and Dumbledore simply held the boy tighter. His insides were writhing, what else had he missed in his school. Right then and there he made a promise, he would never let this happen again.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**End Note:** Ooh, good Dumbledore, fancy that. What do you think of the entire Narcissa/Severus relationship? Should I develop it further? This is an AU, so I could even put them together in the far future. They're a fun couple to write. The next chapter actually provides some Happy!Snape, some McGonagall bonding, etc. All around a fluffy chapter, to sort of counteract all the angst. Then the chapter AFTER that, we'll actually get to some Harry and Snape interaction.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. The Flower of Death

**Story:** Harry Potter and the Angel's Agony

**Chapter:** Three, The Flower of Death

**Authoress:** Stormy Llewellyn

**Authoress' Note:** Thank you to all of those who reviewed! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, just the slightly gothic feel to it and the old-fashioned feel of the courtship. Now, I have the next two chapters planned out, but if you don't start reviewing, then I'll be forced to slow down the posting.

A HUGE thanks to FaYtHeInTrAnSiT who totally rocks. Bow down to The Great One, we collaborated this chapter, we spent hours on it so I hope you reward us for our work.

**XxXxXxXxX**

The Black Manor was a sprawling estate outside of London, where the land flattens out into farmland with the occasional woods. There was a long country road that led off the main roadway leading from London, and had not yet been modernized. About ten miles down this road, trees suddenly cleared. A tall stone fence ran forbiddingly around the house with only a small opening, a black iron-wrought gate. Beyond the gate was a cobblestoned path that led to a looming and imposing building made of stone. A garden was off to the left, full of all sorts of expensive, not to mention exotic plants that were tended to by only the best herbologists in Britain. Currently, they were covered with a shielding spell to keep them at the appropriate temperature during the cold winter months. To the right was a stable that contained two Pegasus, very rare creatures who were regulated by the Ministry.

Inside, the house was much darker. There were several flickering candles on the walls and fires burnt in every fireplace, even the ones that were not in use. In some ways it was warm, with it's rich colors, and yet no childish laughter rang through the halls. To the casual observer, it would appear that no one lived here for a very long time, what with the cobwebs and the general feeling of decay the house gave off. All of the furniture in the house was clearly expensive and once, in it's day and age, must have been beautiful. It had since then, however, fallen into a state of disrepair.

A tiny, solemn faced girl was sitting in the parlor, clutching a bouquet of beautiful yellow roses. She seemed very out of place in the large, imposing room. The entire place seemed to dwarf her, not aided by the lost, slightly pinched expression on her face. If one did not know better, they would think that she was going to a funeral. For she was clad completely in black, a modest turtleneck and knee-length skirt with a black cloak thrown over it. However, she was on the way to meet her soon-to-be husband at his mansion that was even further isolated then her home.

Suddenly, Druella Black burst into the room, dressed in silk a blue shade that reminded the youngest Black very much of ice. Narcissa couldn't stop herself from jumping slightly when her mother entered the room, the woman had always intimidated her. There was an old saying, "You should be a Black to marry a Black." Druella was, therefore, not what they considered a true Black, for she was the first Rosier to marry into the Black family. From her, Narcissa had inherited her blonde hair and delicate features. Sirius' mother was extremely jealous of the woman, for she had been the prime candidate to marry the first son of the main Black bloodline. Narcissa would never forget last Christmas when Walburga had called her mother a "gold-digging whore". Druella had cursed her, and they hadn't been invited back since then.

The older woman looked over her plain outfit and sneered, though she said nothing. Her eyes, however, stopped on the roses. With disgust evident she snapped, "_What_ are those?"

Narcissa looked down at the roses, she gently fingered them out of nervousness, "They're roses, Mother. I thought I'd give them to Lucius as a peace offering, so we can get to know each other better," she looked up and offered a soft smile, "I spent all morning in the garden picking the healthiest, most beautiful ones."

Druella ripped them from her hands and threw them into the fire, where they blackened and smoldered. She looked up at her with surprise, by way of explanation, Druella pulled out a bouquet of red roses and explained the her daughter, "You are going to see your future husband, a man of sophistication and class, not one of your grubby little playmates."

With that, the woman pulled her daughter to her feet and looked at her critically. She fussed with her hair and adjusted her cloak so it fell just so, and tightened the skirt around her waist ever so slightly. Once finished, she took her daughters chin in her hands and met her grey ones with her own light blue ones, "Now remember, you be a lady, and you give him _whatever_ he desires. Do you understand me?"

A hot blush rushed in Narcissa's cheeks and bile rose in her throat; she nodded while avoiding eye contact with her mother. "Good, that's my girl. Hopefully this visit will seal the deal and make your betrothal concrete. Now, go on, the carriage is waiting outside for you."

She walked off, trying not to stamp her feet. Truly, she was dreading this vacation spent at his house. It felt good to get outside the house though, the air was brisk and clean. She slowly began her walk to the carriage, drawn by both Pegasus for good show. Suddenly, something caught her eye, black against the white snow. It was a single black rose growing out of the brush. A wicked smile graced her lips and she plucked it, it's thorns digging into her gloved fingers. Silently, she placed the wild flower of death in the beautiful bouquet,, reveling in her rebellion. When she entered the carriage, she was in better spirits than when she left the house.

Narcissa leaned out the window watching her house was out of sight, secretly pretending that her doting family were waving goodbye to her daughter who was being the hero and going off to marry a rich man so her poor family could make it through the winter. Once it was out of sight, she snapped back to reality and reached deep within her cloak, pulling a trick string that opened a secret pocket. She drew out a small bundle of letters, kept together by a red ribbon. They were smudged and worn from being read repeatedly. They were the letters from the first real friend she had ever had.

She still remembered the day she had first seen Severus Snape. It had been the first time she paid a visit to Hogwarts. Bellatrix was complaining of loneliness, of how all the girls in her class were shallow and callous. So our father, who had always favored Bella, sent her for a day to entertain the older girl. Narcissa had been ten years old at the time and excited to be at Hogwarts a year before all her peers. Feeling proud, she strutted through the hallways at the side of the most powerful female in the Slytherin house.

They were in the Great Hall the third morning of her stay, sitting at the Slytherin table. Back then he and Bellatrix had gotten along, or at least Bella had treated her decently. So, she had shown her baby sister off to all her friends. Narcissa did not care for them; they were cold, close-minded, and laughed about things that Narcissa did not find at all funny. Naturally, her mind began to wander, as did her eyes. She saw noting interesting until her eyes landed on a boy about her age seated at the end of the table, all by himself.

Narcissa had always been a bit of a romantic, she loved romance novels and was jealous of her older sisters who were courted by all sorts of interesting, handsome boys. To her eyes, Severus was something of a wounded dove. He was handsome in a tragic sort of way, with his long, black hair, onyx eyes of unfathomable depth, and ivory skin. A bruise marred his left cheek, though it had faded from a dark purple to a yellowish-blue color.

To Bellatrix's displeasure, her sister had stopped squabbling for the approval of the older students. She took her little sister's chin in her hand and forced her head to the right until they were face to face. Instead of being properly chastised, Narcissa asked eagerly, "Who is that?"

Bella's eyes flickered over to the boy and her lips curled into a sneer, "_That_," she turned to the group as a whole, "is the shame of the Slytherin house." They all snickered, and the boy had obviously hear them. His shoulders stiffened and he lowered his head ever-so-slightly. In a softer voice, Bellatrix added, "That is Severus Snape, he's pretty much a loser. A half-blood who lives in poverty."

There was more laughing. Narcissa looked sadly over at the boy, who met her eyes coldly, his eyes like mirrors, reflecting what he saw but not how he felt. Then he spoke quietly, "So?"

The entire table went silent and the older Black slowly turned to face the boy. Dangerously, she said, "You dare speak to me, you filthy half-breed?"

"What have you to be proud of exactly, Black? That you family tree is so incestuous it runs in a straight line?"

Narcissa had never seen her older sister stricken speechless until that moment. Personally, she felt a small smile touch her lips, Severus returned it hesitantly, eyeing her warily. Unfortunately for her, Bellatrix saw the look on her face. "_You!_" She shrieked, sounding like a cross between a banshee and a harpy, "How dare you sit there with that smirk on your face as he insults your heritage? _Clearly_ you are too impressionable for this place, perhaps I should suggest to Mother and Father they send you to Beauxbaton?"

Obviously, that had been her last night at Hogwarts until the following year. Her parents had been furious, Mother had raged and screamed and made threats until she was blue in the face. Her father was worse, when she'd arrived home, he'd given her a disappointed look and not spoken to her for weeks afterward. Narcissa hadn't understood what the big deal was, but being the people pleaser that she was, she quickly made it up to her parents. Within the month, she was betrothed to Lucius Malfoy, who was in his final year at Hogwarts. So, eventually her parents went back to normal. Bella, however, carried grudges like war scars (just ask Sirius) and their relationship had never been quite the same.

One good thing had come from it, and that was the beginning of her correspondence to Severus. It had began with an apology letter, sent secretly to him to make up for Bellatrix's behavior. Since then, they'd continued to write each other, whether they were in school or not. Needing some cheering up, she sorted through the letters, peering closely at the date written in dark black ink in cramped handwriting, and she began to pick out her favorite ones.

There was the first letter that she had ever received, cold and distant, very formal and he was obviously trying to impress her. She loved this one though, because of one word, one tiny word. It was scrawled nervously, had almost been scratched out, but it was there. _Yours_. And from that day forward she had thought of him as exactly that. Hers.

Her second favorite letter was one that had obviously been written in anger. However, he poured his entire heart out in it; his frustrations with school and home. This had made her believe that he trusted her. Until this point, she had felt a bit like a kitten playing with a lion, but this made her feel as if they were equals. She was the one person who he trusted with his emotions, and that made her feel like the keeper of the stars.

Then there was the most recent letter she had received from him. It was sweet and warm, he called her Cissa, something that only her most intimate friends dared to do. There was still a touch of formality to it, which allowed Narcissa to pretend that her was courting her. He kidded with her, the gentle banter that they had going in their letters. They had reached a new level of comfort with each other. Her heart fluttered as she read the letter over again, describing the latest potion he was working on. Often, she had to look up things that he talked about, but she loved that he talked to her like an intelligent adult.

The carriage suddenly stopped, Narcissa had to put her hand out to keep herself from sliding from her seat. She opened the door and stepped down off the platform, casually petting a Pegasus as she passed it by. Now, Narcissa was used to beauty, however, her breath was taken away when she saw the mansion in which Lucius resides. There was a long circle driveway which the carriage had dropped her off in (it was already pulling away, more quickly now that it had lightened it's load) and along the path that led to the door had a fountain on either side of it, shooting light blue jets of water out of the end of a clearly pureblood wizard's wand. It seemed a bit grandiose, especially since there was only one person living here, but Narcissa figured that it was just his family home.

It seemed so impersonal though, she wondered briefly if she was at the right place. This place didn't even give the impression that it had once seen happiness like her own home did. Nervously, she stepped forward and knocked on the huge oak doors. The door opened soundlessly to reveal a small creature, with huge eyes and a long nose. She stepped inside and found herself in a large and circular marble room which was every bit as cold as it was outside. On the walls hung stuffy pictures of past relatives, most of them were awake, but did not speak to or acknowledge the young girl who had entered their room. That was all that was in the room save for a few stiff-backed chairs and a huge mirror on the wall, which reflected Narcissa's image. She didn't like what she saw, a sullen girl stuck in a life she didn't want.

Turning away from the mirror, she turned to face the elf who was looking up eagerly at her, "Elf, where is Lucius?"

The creature wrung it's hands and looked around nervously before speaking, "Master Lucius is not here."

"Oh!" The word escaped her mouth before she could stop it, and a smile appeared on her lips, instantly lighting up her eyes. She could have sworn the elf was giving her a sympathetic smile.

"Is there anything Dobby can be getting for you?"

She thought for a moment of ordering the elf to get her wine, or another drink that she rarely go to taste. She didn't really want to be drunk when her future husband arrived, though. In the end, she decided on an American favorite of hers, "Apple juice."

Here, Dobby looked up at her with wide eyes, "Apple juice?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes and lifted her chin haughtily, "Yes. It's juice. Usually made from apples."

"Dobby will see if we be having any," with a crack he disappeared, leaving Narcissa by herself. She wandered into the next room, which was a parlor. There was a single fire burning in a hearth before a love seat and two large armchairs, both white. The sheer drapes were white and let in bright sunlight, making the room look almost sterile. Near the largest picture window was an ash wood table and two white chairs. She tried to imagine herself pouring tea in here for her husband and his business associates. The image, however, was humiliating and she quickly buried it and settled into one of the armchairs, which looked more comfortable than it actually was.

The fire was dying and the sun was sinking in the sky when Dobby finally returned. He had apple pulp all over his face, and was holding a glass of smashed up apples. Narcissa's eyes widened at the site of him and she exclaimed, "What did you do to yourself?"

"Well," he floated the glass over to her, she took it and examined it's contents, "Dobby could not find any apple juice, so he had to make some himself."

"I see that," she frowned at the glass, "and I appreciate it, though I would have taken something else to drink as well. But what I meant was what happened to your face?"

"Dobby had to punish himself, because Dobby didn't have any apple juice for Miss. Narcissa, and Dobby figured the quickest way to do it was to smash the apples with Dobby's face."

Her shoulders shook and she covered her face with her hands. Dobby shrieked, "Oh, no! Dobby has made Miss Narcissa sad, Dobby must punish himself!" She grabbed him before he could stick his hand in the burning fire and he saw that she was giggling, absolutely shaking with mirth.

She flounced back over to the couch, her cloak swishing behind her. Narcissa took a drink of the 'apple juice' and then looked back at the elf who had cheered her up so. Kneeling on the floor, she took the hem of her robe and gently wiped away the mess on his face. The tiny creature smiled up at her, it was a rather gaping, ugly smile, but Narcissa found herself smiling back at him.

Watching the entire scene was a rather stony faced Lucius. The look on his face was colder than death. When he spoke, his tone was low and dangerous, and it was clear he was dead serious, "Why are you fraternizing with my house elf?"

The girl stood up quickly and turned to face him while Dobby let out a small, terrified noise and ran out of the room. Narcissa smoothed her skirt and stammered out an explanation, "I was just...he made me some...do you want apple juice?" She smiled sweetly at him and handed him the glass, figuring it would amuse him and break the ice.

Lucius took the glass from her and threw it at her, she shrieked and moved out of the way, sending the glass colliding into the wall behind her. She was looking at him with wide eyes, before she'd registered what had happened, he closed the distance between them. He bent over slightly so that they were face to face, "We don't _talk_ to house elves. Occasionally we shout at them, but never talk. And we especially, _especially_ do not meet them at eye level. There is a reason we are taller than them."

Realizing she was being chastised, Narcissa cast her eyes down. Suddenly, she remembered her roses and handed to him with a grim smile, "I'm so sorry, Lucius. I brought these for you."

"They're beautiful," he said quietly, without emotion. He carried them into a back room and returned with them in a vase and set them on the ash wood table. "Dobby will show you to your rooms." With that, he left her.

A crack sounded and Dobby appeared, looking slightly cross-eyed, "Did Mistress call Dobby?"

Narcissa let out a bitter laugh, "No, of course I didn't. Lucius did, however, and I wouldn't mind being shown to my rooms."

He led her upstairs and down a long marble hallway which was beautiful but barren. Dobby mentioned, "Mistress may want to find a heavier cloak. She may get cold, especially during the night."

"Why?"

Dobby shrugged and began to wring his hands once again. Narcissa decided to let it go and asked, "Is Lucius gone often?"

When he spoke, it was in a strangled voice, "No..." The elf stopped abruptly and slammed his head into the wall rapidly. Narcissa leaned down and grabbed him by the shoulders, he struggled but she kept a firm hold on him. Under her breath she whispered, "I hate when elves do this." Out loud, to Dobby she explained, "You don't have to lie to me."

He stared at her with wide eyes before bursting into tears and sobbing, "Mistress is too kind to Dobby!" They had stopped at an open door, Dobby threw his hands out towards the door and sobbed, "These are Mistress' rooms! Dobby hopes Mistress will enjoy them!" With that, he ran off down the hall, his wails echoing down the hollow hallway. Narcissa shook her head and entered the room.

It was fairly spacious, and appeared more so because of the large picture window that allowed in a dim grey light. There was an oak desk and chair, bed, and armorie. The bed was clad completely in white; white sheets, a white comforter, and a white dust ruffle. The carpeting was white, as were the walls that had only a few pictures that were beautiful, but in a shallow sort of way.

Draped over the bed were three brand new dressed, which were all grey. They were suited to a woman older than Narcissa and were ridicuosly elegant for someone her age. All three glowed and shimmered, reminding her of the color of an invisibility cloak. When she touch them, they were a soft silk, extremely thin and inflexible material. She recognized the design and knew they were from a popular and expensive tailor.

Narcissa hated them.


End file.
